


What I Resist Speaks Louder Than I Know

by insomniabug



Series: Morning After [2]
Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniabug/pseuds/insomniabug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gails POV.<br/>Companion fic to "All the Mornings After"</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Resist Speaks Louder Than I Know

**Author's Note:**

> I can be an asshole of the grandest kind  
> I can withhold like it's going out of style  
> I can be the moodiest baby and you've never met anyone  
> Who is as negative as I am sometimes
> 
> ~x~x~x~x~x~x~

Gail wakes up feeling comfortable and relaxed.

Still a bit dreamy from sleep, she buries her face into the crook of his neck and takes in a deep breath. His heart beats steadily against her palm. Her body rises and falls with the movement of her pillow, the slow breathing creating a soothing motion. Her hand begins to roam across his chest. A small sigh escapes his mouth and she feels it on the top of her head, her hair rustling slightly. When his left arm tightens around her waist for a moment, she feels a foreign kind of warmth flood her veins. His solid body beneath her making her feel something she couldn't (or rather wouldn't) put a name to.

His left hand, now lightly resting on her hip, begins to caress her in a lazy _not-knowing-he's-doing-it_  kind of way. The movement was so relaxing, she almost falls right back to sleep. Considering the late night she (they) had and knowing she (they) had the day off, the idea is an extremely inviting one. Her lids slowly begin to lower as she drifts off...

...in Luke Callaghan's arms.

Her eyes pop open and she feels her heart begin to race. She has to will herself into keeping extremely still or else he was going to wake up and make this into an even more awkward situation.

(It took her forever to finally get him over his morning after guilt. Seriously, the way he would go on about ' _not doing this again_ ' was exhausting.)

The only reason this entire arrangement worked was because they kept it strictly about sex. There was never any kind of physical contact that didn't involve one body part entering another. So the hand on her hip now felt like an anchor threatening to drag her down to a place from where she'd never return.

Gail tried to control her breathing and looked up at his face. By the way his eyelids were now fluttering, she knew he was going to wake up in the next twenty minutes. She's slept with him long enough to know more or less the signs before he would wake...and she was not going to be in his arms when he did.

(She isn't going to allow it.)

She never had this problem in the beginning. In the beginning, they would be hot and heavy one minute, then act like total strangers the next. No post coital yakking or spooning.

(She was grudgingly impressed when he managed to make her orgasm three times that first night. She'll never tell him how he's the best sex she's ever had because where was the fun in that?)

The only mistake he made that first time was offering her his bed afterward, like he was still trying to be the good guy. She swiftly took control of the situation and told him she would rather sleep in her car outside, the glare on her face maybe a bit harsher than she intended. She just didn't want him to get the wrong idea about what was going on between them. He frowned and directed her to the guest bedroom.

(Sleeping in someone's bed was personal. Personal and complicated.)

That's how the "no-sex-in-a-bed" rule was unofficially created. A rule she silently reinforces and that he barely even knows exists. The awkward and uncomfortable locations where they sleep together help remind her of what they are...and what they aren't.

Instead of waking up in different rooms, or at the very least facing opposite directions, lately she's been noticing that there has been an increase of mornings in his arms than mornings out of them. She tells herself that it doesn't mean anything. That sometimes she just has a girly need to cuddle. Doesn't mean she needs to make a big deal about it.

(She chose to ignore that the last time she cuddled with a man she was sleeping with, she ended up in the most serious relationship of her life so far.)

Gail slowly starts to disentangle her body from his, which is a lot harder to do than she thought. She tells herself it's because of the tight grip he had around her waist or because of the way his legs twisted around hers like vines wrapped around a tree.

(It wasn't because his touch kept her rooted to the spot or because this is the safest she's felt since she could last remember.)

After a lifetime of starting and stopping, afraid that every move she makes is going to wake him, Gail finally frees her body. She looks down at the tall, slightly snoring man on the floor with his right arm across his abdomen and the other flat against the floor where she was moments earlier. She notices that stupid piece of hair that always rebels against gravity and feels the strangest urge come over her to smooth it down. She clenches her fists to keep from reaching out and taming it.

She continues her perusal of his body and quickly brings a hand up to her mouth to stifle a laugh. While the rest of him might be sound asleep, Callaghan Jr is wide awake and standing at attention. Although they've had sex in practically every position (some even she was a bit bashful to think of) he was still extremely shy when it came to nudity. He would forget it the moment she started taking off her clothes but as soon as peaks were reached and breaths were caught, he would immediately start looking for cover like some sort of virgin. It was a perfect opportunity to tease him and make him a little less smug about getting into her vagina.

This morning was the rare exception, meaning the night before had exhausted him more so than usual.

(She felt a bit smug at that.)

For a moment, Gail seriously considered waking him up with her mouth...not on  _his mouth_  obviously. Heaven knows there have been mornings when she's come to with her legs thrown over his shoulders and his blond head nestled between them. She can still remember the first time, that unfamiliar shock when she looked down and saw his blue eyes staring up at her, his tongue sending shivers down her spine. It wasn't like he hadn't gone down on her before, it's just this was the first time he did it without her telling him to. It was completely spontaneously and despite having an orgasm that made it into her top five, she breathlessly told him never to do it again. She didn't give him an explanation and he didn't ask for one.

(She would never admit that it was because she sort of liked not being in control or because of how tightly her thighs clenched around him, refusing to let him go.)

To her dismay (and pleasure) this was one of the rare times he chose to ignore what she says. So now whenever he wakes up before her, she explodes against his tongue and loses a little more of that control she tries so hard to keep.

That's how the trail of broken furniture began. If he wasn't going to listen, she was going to teach him a lesson. She's watched him spend thousands of dollars in the past two months, replacing objects she knew didn't have to be replaced if only he listened to her. She kind of hates how he never says a word, just fumes silently as he cleans up the mess.

(It still didn't stop him from delivering that particular wake up call.)

Destroying his furniture was also how she found out that a frustrated Luke was a horny Luke. So she continued her path of destruction more so for that reason than as a punishment for disobedience. Considering the state of his living room at that very moment, she was looking forward to a very frustrated Luke...and a very satisfying morning. His frustration was amazing when channeled into something productive...that something being her orgasm.

Gail also found out that the more disinterest she showed towards him, the harder he worked to get her off. Bumping him down a few pegs on the power ladder was something she thinks he needs on a regular basis, that it might even be a kink for him. Remembering everything that happened when Detective Jo Rosati rolled into town, a swift kick in the pants every now and again, like flirting with other guys in front of him, was as good as gold in her book. It keeps him on his toes and in her pants.

(She's totally not worried about other women stealing him away. She just doesn't want to share his penis while she's using it. Has nothing to do with the tight feeling she gets in her chest when a pretty girl enters the room and gives him the bedroom eyes.)

Thankfully a pair of hot pink booty shorts (definitely not purchased with him in mind) brought her out of her thoughts. Laying on the floor above his head, her stomach does a tiny flip as she remembered exactly how he got them off her last night. Biting her bottom lip, she picks them up and drapes the fabric over his crotch, giving him the coverage he was so found of. She tries hard not to laugh as the piece of underwear is transformed into a tent.

Standing up, Gail makes sure not to look back at him and walks into the kitchen. She instantly turns on the coffee maker, forgetting how often she's made coffee in his kitchen. She isn't going to offer him any but if there happens to be some left over, well then he could have it. Doesn't mean she was going to tell him if there was. He was a hot shot detective, he could figure it out on his own.

She opened the cabinets in search of a clean mug and noticed with some surprise that most of the cabinets were still empty. Meaning he hasn't replaced the ones broken three weeks ago in a rare display of anger.

Her anger.

That night the kitchen was illuminated only by the light of the open refrigerator door. They were both starving and eating directly out of the fridge. She dropped some leftover lasagna on her bare chest and scooped it up with her finger. In a moment of inspiration, she caught his eye and sucked hard on her finger to lick it clean.

(It was actually pretty good lasagna. She was surprised when he told her he cooked it himself.)

The next thing she knew, he was lifting her onto the kitchen counter and slipping inside her so fast, they forgot the condoms were still in the other room. She knew something was different the moment he entered her but before she could place a finger on it, he was deeper than ever before and hitting places that made her forget her own name.

Despite it being their best round to date (she still gets chills thinking about it) she was furious when she suddenly felt his warm and sticky fluid drying on her inner thighs.

Words were exchanged. Slaps were exchanged. Plates were thrown.

After that she cut him off and for five days everyone at the station suffered from his mysterious frustration and sudden crankiness. They eventually attributed it to the fact Andy and Sam were moving in together but only she knew the real reason why.

(It was the end of that fifth day when she received a red messenger that released her heart from the vice it had been in. She had been so relieved and impulsively giddy that she showed up at his door that night and gave him the best blowjob, not to mention the first she'd ever given him, of his life.)

The coffee maker suddenly beeped, signaling the coffee was ready. Once again, she ignores the familiarity of his kitchen and pours herself a cup. She leans back against the counter, the cold a shock against her back, and starts drinking. She hears a very loud groan come from the living room and knows he has seen the damage around him.

The corners of her mouth lift into a smile.

~x~x~x~x~x~x~

The tile is cold and wet against her back. His hands are warm and rough against her breasts. Gail bites her lip as a wave of pleasure hits her.

Luke hadn't been as much fun as she hoped when he woke up. She knew he tried for some snark this morning trying to trade her underwear but there was something up with him. Something she wishes would just go away because it has been making him weird for the past week. It made her feel extra bitchy and much more likely to snap at him, which made them both angry and seeking time away from the other.

(The others at the police station had no idea how much a peaceful work environment depended on their sex life. Four months and still no one knew they were sleeping together. It surprised her considering the amount of gossip that went around. She guesses that Noelle being pregnant with Frank's baby is giving them a great escape from being the center of attention.)

He was still off when he entered the shower, which was also bit weird and not part of their regular scheduled programming. Sure they've taken showers together but always at night and always after having a few drinks. Gail just ignored him and went about her business just to show him he couldn't phase her. Her inner feelings of awkwardness were also the reason why she made sure her chest brushed up against his...she needed to get back on solid ground. And to her satisfaction, he didn't disappoint.

All thoughts were put on hold when he enters her easily, the water not the wettest thing in that shower. His hands are tight on her hips, guiding her down in one agonizing slow motion. Her breath hitches a tiny bit as her body takes him in completely, the sensations always feeling stronger than the last time.

After that night in his kitchen three weeks ago, she (they) decided it was time to go on the pill. She stopped taking it after Chris broke up with her and didn't think this thing with Luke was going to be a regular occurrence to justify it.

(She stops herself from remembering the talk they had two weeks ago. When he subtly told her he hadn't been with anyone since Andy and wasn't planning on sleeping with anyone while he was with her. When she subtly told him she hadn't been with anyone since Chris and had a rule where she only slept with one guy at a time. Her prescription was filled out the next day.)

His breath is hot against her neck as her fingers claw at his back trying to find some purchase. Her heels dig into his ass while her legs begin to shake with the effort of holding on. Something primal coils in her lower belly as he pulls out almost completely before slowly sliding back inside her. He does this a couple times before picking up the pace. Their bodies resuming their perfected rhythm.

Being with him has been the easiest thing she's ever done.

And the hardest.

There was never a problem with them in this department. It was the part that came after that sent her reeling.

He'd push her hair back (just like he was doing now) and gently hold her face. Cradling it like she was the most fragile thing he's ever held. His face would lose that permanent sour scowl he's had since "Jo-geddon" and "Andy-pocalypse." His eyes would snap focus on her, like she was the only thing in his world and she wanted nothing more than to look away.

(It was this look that she had been seeing with an alarming frequency...even without his penis inside her.)

But then this thing would explode in her belly. Shooting through her body, from head to toe like a rocket. She would feel a smile on her face. The emergence of  _that_  smile was when his face would change a second time. The only thing she had to compare it to was the way Chris looked at her but still, completely different in  _his_  face. She doesn't know the words (maybe they don't even exist) to describe the way he looked at her. And then she thought how she wanted nothing more than to have him always look at her this way. Looking at her like he...

She stops herself. This was just sex. They were in the shower having crazy single sex because they were not committed to anyone, especially not to each other. This was just a physical agreement that did not need to be put under a microscope and analyzed to death. She's done that once before and was never going back.

Not for Homicide.

 _Especially_ not for Homicide _._

(She pushes away the slight anger she feels at herself for feeling so weak.) _  
_

And like always, she tries not to feel disappointed when she sees the change in his eyes. Like a door is closing behind them and she secretly worries if today would be the day it closed for good.

Because no matter how hard she tries, that is one thing she will never be able to control.

~x~x~x~x~x~x~

_I'm the funniest woman that you've ever known_   
_I'm the dullest woman that you've ever known_   
_I'm the most gorgeous woman that you've ever known_   
_And you've never met anyone_   
_Who is as everything as I am sometimes_

~x~x~x~x~x~x~

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Song - "Everything" by Alanis Morissette


End file.
